


Top Crowd - The Lost Episode

by AleksanteriAgitshev



Category: IT Crowd, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleksanteriAgitshev/pseuds/AleksanteriAgitshev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas Reynholm talked the Top Gear producers into making an episode featuring his company's IT department. The footage was never aired. Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top Crowd - The Lost Episode

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trustmeimthe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustmeimthe/gifts).



[Sometime in 2007, in Central London. A Lost Episode of BBC 2’s popular Top Gear program.]

[Richard Hammond stands atop the A4 overpass, on the westbound side.]

“We’ve shown you what it’s like for enthusiasts and professionals to tackle unconventional driving challenges. But what if we took four corporate trainspotting anorak types-”

“I’m not elderly!”

“Cut! Get that Irish guy off the set! Alright, Richard, let’s try that again.”

“Alright fine. Ready?”

“Action.”

“We’ve shown you what it’s like for enthusiasts and professionals to tackle unconventional driving challenges. But what if we took four corporate trainspotting anorak types, and force them to coordinate on something they should be absolutely terrible at?”

[Shot to two men sitting inside of a cheap sports car.]

“So Roy, do you think that they put the steering wheel on the wrong side for an American car? Or the gas pedal on the wrong side for a British one?” Moss said, gingerly tapping the pedals with his feet in the passenger’s seat.

“Don’t be silly, Moss. It’s a Toyota!” Roy grips the top of the wheel, arms held stiffly in front of him.

“That’s not-”

[Shoots to a different car, and two other people, a man and a woman.]

“Richmond, I had no idea you were so into autos.” Jen smooths out her skirt, glancing down at the gas pedal and brake.

“Oh yes, I have a hearse that I modified into a juiced up racer, she’s a real dyno queen. Can go nought to sixty in about 10 seconds. Even with a full coffin in the back.” Richmond says, behind a pair of red tinted sunglasses, tapping the steering wheel.

“I, ah, full? I thought funeral processions were supposed to move slowly.”

“No, no, it’s just full with groceries. Don’t be so morbid,” he drolls.

[Shoots back to Richard Hammond.]

“Ohhh yes, this is going to be good.”

[The screen shifts to the Top Gear logo, and a sample of The Allman Brothers Band “Jessica”.plays as the theme song.]

“This is rubbish,” Hammond says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “how did I get stuck with this again?”

“James has turned the tables on you, he’s the one shooting a commercial now.” The producer says, wrenching off his headset. “And for the fourth time, Jeremy is receiving his public investiture.”

“What? I thought that was a joke! The Queen is actually making Jezza a knight? I’ll never bloody hear the end of this.”

“Neither will I, it seems. Though, I’m fairly certain he was knighted for outstanding contributions to being a righteous wanker, so that’s appropriate, innit?. Come then, let’s go meet our daring motorists.” The producer downs what’s left of his coffee and marches off to another part of the set.

“Alright, so you can also tell me why we don’t have proper celebrities for this at least?” Richard reluctantly follows after him.

“The CEO of their company, Douglas something or other, talked an executive into letting him pitch an episode featuring some of his employees. He promised it would be hilarious.”

Elsewhere on the set, Roy took a sip of the craft service table coffee, a rare pleasant surprise blossoming on his face.

“So, you ever seen this program, Moss? Usually it’s some kind of a race they go off on.”

“Oh, you know these things aren’t what they seem, Roy. It might appear a thrilling, uncontrived motor engagement, when in reality, it is a carefully orchestrated and scripted theatre of the road.” Moss had avoided the offerings so far, instead using his time to ask random questions of the crew, who had all quietly evacuated the general area.

“Well, if I had lines I was supposed to memorize, that’s hardly fair! I’m terrible at improv!” Roy gripes.

“Non-sense, your extemporaneous portrayal of Dark Hardon during our most recent Dungeons and Dragons campaign was downright inspirational.” Moss says, planting his hands on his hips, chin lifted loftily to emphasize his point.

“We don’t play that televised on the BBC Moss! We haven’t even played with a full party!” Roy began to visibly panic, working himself up into a neurotic frenzy.

“No, but wouldn’t that be a brilliant idea for a program? Action, adventure, romance-” Moss was cut short at the arrival of Jen and Richmond, the latter of whom was rubbing his jaw uncomfortably.

“Hello boys!” Jen says cheerfully, “Isn’t this so exciting? We haven’t been on television since Dragon’s Den.”

“Oh god Jen, don’t bring that up! “ Roy bellows, “the last thing we need is for a brassiere to catch fire while we’re attempting white-knuckle driving maneuvers.”

“Why, are you wearing one?” Jen says, narrowing her eyes.

“Oh, I think we’ll be alright, cars don’t generally self-immolate unless they’ve been stacked badly, and get a spark from the electrical system,” Richmond helpfully explains, “really what you should be worried about is being decapitated, that’s much easier.” He stops short, making a grimace.

“Richmond, what’s wrong, you’ve been grabbing at your face all morning.” Jen says, leering at him.

“Oh, it’s just my gums. A bit sore.”

Richard Hammond and his producer arrive at that point, walking right up to the group. Richard’s brows were furrowed, and he addresses Moss.

“Hey you lot, where are those numptys we’re supposed to be filming today?” He says, glancing around.

“Oh, we’re not your television crew, Mister Hammond, we are those numptys.” Moss provides, matter-of-factly.

“Ah, right. Sorry about that. So, shall we get started?”

[Cut to the Top Gear studio. Richard Hammond is sitting across from Jen Barker, the Top Gear racetrack leaderboard just to the side.]

“Jen, that was easily the worst time we've ever seen on the show, including when we had the rescue dogs from New Zealand come to try. And they were from New Zealand."

“Perhaps those trainers have more experience behind the wheel than I have.” Jen smiles at the camera, blinking coquettishly.

“The dogs were from New Zealand. Well, I suppose the trainers were as well, but they weren’t driving. And yes, I think it does take a bit of practice for a dog to learn how to navigate a racetrack, so we agree there...”

[Cut to a low-lit chestnut bar and stools, with Richard Hammond perched atop one of them, holding a half-full pint glass.]

"There is very little as British as a pub. However, not all of our residents really know how to meet ladies there. Especially not when they’re in a hurry. We thought we’d put that to the test for our little race. The first to cross the finish line first wins, provided they have managed to be successful in finding an amorous driving partner. Let’s take a look."

[Roy Trenneman stands in a pub, glancing around. He spots a woman at the end of the bar, and leans over to Moss.]

“Alright, so there’s this thing popular in America, the art of the pick-up or something like that. You tell a woman something negative about herself to pique her interest. I’m going to give that a shot. What do you think?”

“I think that sounds counter-productive,” Moss replies, “But you probably know better than I do.”

Roy walks over to the woman, trying very hard to appear smooth. He is slightly bow-legged to avoid his pants swishing together.

“Good evening, miss. Those shoes you’re wearing are terrible.” Roy says, smiling widely.

He is slapped on the face, quickly and decisively. He returns to Moss, where Jen has approached, trying to hold in her laughter.

“Regretfully, I was right about that, wasn’t I?” Moss says, looking sympathetic. “Jen, does that ever actually work?”

“What? Of course not. Contrary to what such men think, women really do prefer someone who is nice to them.” Jen says, happy to instruct them both.

“Oh, well I was just going to say that you don’t look quite so old today.” Roy says, nursing the red mark on his cheek.

“My, thank you!” Jen says. “I think.”

[Cut to Richmond Felicity Avenal standing a pub, surrounded by women.]

“No, if I were in my regular ride, I’d have plenty of room for all of you. Alas, I can choose only one.”

Offscreen, Hammond mutters to one of the producers:

“Well, at least one of them isn’t striking out.”

[Later on, before an ambulance, outside at night.]

“What do you mean bone pain? He was driving very nicely, making great time! And the women! He was clearly going to win!” Hammond stammes gesturing wildly.

“Sorry sir, he says he’s also short of breath. We’re taking Mr. Avenal to the hospital for observation.” The EMT responds.

“Alright, thanks, take care of him. Let’s hope the others are doing a little better.”

[The camera cuts to a crowded establishment, the lens centered on Jen.]

“No, no, this is inappropriate! I’m the woman! I don’t pick people up,” she says, looking slightly annoyed.

“You don’t have to pick them up, you just have to have some stranger hop in the car with you to cross the finish line. We’ll get them to sign a release form,” the producer pleads, off-camera.

“Did you just hear yourself say that?” Jen walks towards the camera, hands extended. “Who do you think I am?”

“Cut! Cut!”

[Cut to another pub, Moss and Roy are standing at the bar talking to each other quietly.]

“So gents, how’s it going?” Hammond says, walking up.

“Well actually Mister Hammond, there’s something I don’t think you underst-” Moss starts.

“SHHHHHH, not now Moss.” Roy says, concern on his face.

“...alright then, lads. Carry on I suppose.” Hammond shrugs and moves on.

“Yes, we shall.” Moss says, raising his eyebrows.

[Cut back to the Top Gear studio. Hammond is on the couch, opposite Jen, Moss, and Roy crammed into the couch opposite.]

“Well. In a first for Top Gear history, no one was successful at both accomplishing our challenges, and making it past the finish line, despite the best efforts of our producers.” Hammond says, a distasteful look on his face.

Moss stands up from the guest couch, hands stiffly held at his sides.

"Roy and Jen, please tell the gentleman why we do not need to find girlfirends!"

“Well, I know why I don’t need to find a girlfriend.” Jen mutters under her breath. Roy stood up, indignantly, pointing his finger first at Moss, and then at Hammond.

“Moss, this is not the time for us to defend ourselves before this fine studio audience! Look, when a man and a man and a woman love each other very much they may not look at other ladies or gents at the pub and mom, this is why I won't come for boxing day, I'm visiting Jen”

“Oh God...” Jen buries her reddening face in her hands, stooping over.

“Oh don’t be embarrassed, this bollocks is never going to be able to be aired anyways.” Hammond says, getting up himself. “I’m done. Bloody done with this.” He stomps off of camera, being watched by the Roy, Moss, and Jen as he does.

“Well Roy, fine job, that was an effective emotional appeal.” Moss says credulously.

Roy Trenneman sighes, sinking back into the couch.

“I’ve never been happier looking forward to a seat on the bus.”


End file.
